


Intentions

by Blink23



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Religious Discussion, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-11 11:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink23/pseuds/Blink23
Summary: Of all the places for Sam to realize he's messed up and on his heat, Washington's sixth period probably wasn't the greatest.





	Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, I could write the next part of the actual on going fic I have, or I could write porn ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯.

Samuel's first thought when there’s a rush of warm dampness as his butt and thighs hit the seat in history is that he’s sat in something. He’s been off all day, so it’s not that much of a stretch to think he missed someone’s spilt something on his seat.

When he jumps up, there’s nothing there.

He frowns, and touches it, but it’s bone dry. The back of his jeans are too, even though there’s a warm wetness concentrated on the inside and back of his thighs like he’s-

 _Oh no,_ Sam thinks, horrified, _Nononono. This can’t be happening, not in public, this can't-_

He lets out a little whine, and three heads at the front of the classroom turn to look at him; only Mulligan seems to have some sort of control over himself, the others looking at him with so much open and confused want it’s overwhelming.

Sam slings his bag over his shoulder and scurries to the front of the classroom, where Washington is sitting. If he managed to get out now, he might be home before the first few waves of his heat really started and he wouldn't embarrass himself fully.

“Sir,” He squeaks, wincing at how breathy his voice sounds, “I need to leave now. I can’t stay, I-”

When Washington looks up at him his mouth is open like he's about to ask why, but he goes silent. His eyes widen and his hands go to fists on top of his desk as he takes him in. Sam realizes he must be able to smell him already, and he shudders.

_Washington would take care of him. Washington would wrap him up in his arms and hold him against that broad chest, fuck into him until he was nice and wet and begging for his--_

“Go,” Washington says, his voice so deep and firm and sexy he has to bite back a moan, “Don’t worry, I’ll inform attendance. Just leave before something bad happens. Taking care of yourself is more important than school right now, son.”

Sam all but runs out of the room without a second thought. He has to get to his locker in third building for his keys and then home before the whole thing really hits. It easiest way to do that is cut through the quad, and he exits the building in a hurry, hoping the fresh air is enough to mask his scent and clear his head a little.

“Saaaaammmyyy...”

Sam groans as George stops in front of him, blocking him.

“George, this just isn’t a good time,” He tries to get around him, but he moves in his way.

“Come on now, you can’t be on that short of a leash.”

“I need to go home-”

“I can take you,” He steps forward, getting into his personal space, “I can drive y-”

George stops, dumbfounded, Samuel’s scent finally hitting him.

“Oh. You’re...” George breathes in deep, his eyes widening and a slow grin coming to his face, “If you need to go home, then I’ll take you. You’ll need someone to take care of you, hm? Like I did last time? You can’t honestly want to go do this all on your lonesome.”

He trails his fingertips along his jaw and Sam whimpers at the touch. He wants to shove him away, wants to hit him, remind him that last time they did this he tried to _claim_ him and didn't even ask permission, that’s why Sam’s no longer his, but he’s struck dumb. Spending the next two days with someone over his hands holds so much appeal, but he doesn’t want George, he wants-

“You were so good for me last time, until that little...hiccup, like you should be. What a good little Omega you are, hm? You obey your Alpha’s every word..." 

Sam’s legs seem to catch up with his brain and he takes a step back, knocking into someone’s chest.

“What the fuck are you doing, George?”

“Charles,” He whimpers, his eyes widening as he turns around to find Lee there, “I-”

His voice cracks and he tightens his hands in the soft leather of Charles’ jacket. Lee’s pupils are blown, his whole body tense, clearly trying to reign himself in before he gives into the lust and possessiveness clouding his judgment.

“Your heat’s starting?”

Sam nods.

He looks up and George, his eyes narrowing at him. “Get the fuck away from my boyfriend, Hannover.”

George growls something under his breath and Sam closes his eyes tight, pressing his forehead to Charles’ chest. He doesn't want this to be some stupid fight over him when he clearly doesn't want George. Thankfully Sam hears him retreat, and then a few moments later the bell. Instead of moving, Lee wraps his arms around him.

“Sam-”

“I need you, Charles.”

“Is it bad?” He asks, his lips pressed to his hair, and Sam shrugs, not moving his head. Charles is so solid and warm, and smells so nice, like expensive cologne and fabric softener. Sam doesn’t know if he ever wants to move from being tucked up against him.

“I should have a half hour, maybe a little more before it gets really ugly.”

“You’re cool with…?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. We’re gonna go back to mine since my parents are gone, and your dad will murder me if he finds us in your bed. Do you need anything? I mean, we need to stop for condoms, but is there anything else?”

Sam shakes his head. “We don't even need to stop for those, if you don't want. I’m clean and I have an implant -” Charles lets out a little choked off whimper at what he’s insinuating he’s allowed to do, but Sam ignores it “- that’s why I’m all messed up. It’s supposed to stop this from happening and it usually does, but...”

“Okay,” Charles takes a deep breath, holding it for a second before letting it out, “Alright, let’s go.”

He takes him by the hand and tugs him towards the parking lot. Sam’s in a bit of a daze already; it’s coming on fast, but he hasn’t had a real one in a few months, so he feels like he shouldn’t be surprised at the speed. He honestly feels a little dumb that he didn’t recognize the signs of it not being one of his repressed heats but a real one. If he would have he wouldn’t be dragging Charles into this.

“I’m sorry,” Sam whe says quietly, looking at his hands, once they're safely in Charles’ car, “I know we haven’t – I mean, it's just been those few dates, I could be embarrassing myself just thinking what this is is a relationship that’s serious enough to do this, but he- and now...”

Charles’ pulls out of the parking lot without responding, his hand finding its way to Sam’s thigh once he’s safely on the street.

“For the record, it’s been a month and we’ve never discussed it but I figured we were getting to that, thanks. And I’d… I mean, this sounds creepy, but I’m glad you found me. I can take care of you and not make this whole thing be weird afterwards, like with George or Hamilton or fuck… Tallmadge, or something.”

“You can’t compare George to Hamilton and _Ben_ , come on Charles.”

Charles snorts, taking a hard left without moving his hand from Sam’s thigh for the blinker, “Why the fuck not-”

“I know you don’t like him, but let’s not pretend Ben’s not a nice guy? He probably would’ve taken me home and never told a soul if I asked him not to. Alexander would’ve laughed in my face at the suggestion and probably got John Laurens to beat me up. George would’ve made sure the whole school had known before we even did anything, and used it to torment you.”

And it’s the truth. George would’ve probably tweeted about it or something, and tagged Charles. _Who knew seabury was such a good little omega, huh @General__333?_ Then included some ridiculous instagram shot of him sleeping in his bed, or his body laid out on his couch. Maybe there’d be one from the middle of the haze, the two of them covered in sweat, the picture just barely missing out where their bodies are connected--

Sam lets out a moan at the thought and Charles snaps to look at him.

“Are you…?”

“I’m so wet right now, it’s honestly kind of impressive I can form complete sentences.”

Charles lets out a laugh that sounds borderline hysterical, thankful they’re turning onto his block, “You can just say shit like that, christ, I’m going to run us off the road.”

“It’s never been like this,” Sam groans, frustrated, “The birth control is supposed to stop it so it’s once every six months, and it’s only been four since my last. I mean I felt it coming on, but my heats now are usually a day or two of feeling slightly off, and every Alpha I meet acting like I’m some tiny weakling to the point it's annoying and that’s it. Maybe I'm a little more sensitive to being touched, or you like to be around more because I smell good but not super potent. This isn’t supposed to be like this. I shouldn’t be fighting to be coherent and not just beg you to mount me and fill me up and breed me-”

“Fuck-” He hisses, slamming on the breaks as they get into his driveway. He’s out of the car in and instant and around the other side to drag Sam in. The house is massive and empty, thankfully, and Charles tugs him upstairs and to his room without even locking the door behind him. Spada barks and he ignores him, only having eyes for Sam.

“Naked. Now.”

Sam doesn’t need to be told twice, stripping his shirt over his head and tugging at his jeans. Charles corrals the Pomeranian out the door before he throws his jacket off and rips his flannel over his head without unbuttoning it, not caring.

Sam drops down on the bed when he’s naked and Charles abandons getting his jeans down his thighs to kiss him deeply before shoving him back, dropping to his knees and swallowing his cock.

Charles' head bobs in his lap, his hand working at the base. Each time he takes a little bit more into his mouth, until finally he hollows his cheeks and takes Sam down his throat, his nose pressing against pelvis before he pulls back slowly. He grins when Sam lets out a moan at the obscene pop his mouth makes when he pulls off before wrapping his lips around him again.

Sam's clenching and unclenching his hair, trying not to fuck up into his mouth, until finally he can't seem to take it anymore and comes, Charles swallowing all he can.

When Charles pulls off and Sam is still hard he growls, unsatisfied. Charles tugs his jeans the rest of the way off, climbing onto Sam and moving them both to the head of the bed. He gets Sam’s legs over his shoulders and slides inside of him in one fluid movement and Sam has to bite his lip to stop from screaming.

He fucks him in hard, short thrusts, concerned only with getting off. Sam’s first orgasm makes him more coherent and takes away most of the hormone fog, but Alphas don’t get that, only the need to breed and claim and own, so Sam just grips the sheets and closes his eyes as Charles fucks him, his cock leaking already. 

He wants this, want Charles to fill him up, wants his knot and his pups and his bite, Jesus, he wants nothing more-

“Charles...” 

“Are you ready for me?”

Sam whimpers, nodding.

“I asked you a question.”

He punctuates his statement with a rather hard thrust and Sam gasps, Charles's knot already thickening, and it feels better than anything George had ever done to him.

“Yes Alpha.”

Sam suddenly feels full to the point it's almost painful and Charles groans low in his throat, his eyes rolling back. The sensation is enough to Sam, and he comes without even touching himself.

Charles’ thighs are trembling as he holds still and Sam reaches out to touch his face. His eyes snap open and he smiles, kissing the side of Sam's knee before easing his legs off his shoulders and carefully laying down, not disturbing where their bodies are connected.

“Sorry,” He murmurs, kissing Sam’s nose, “I went a little… primal, there.”

Sam giggles, hooking his legs around his waist, “I don’t mind.”

Charles laughs, grabbing him around the waist and flipping them over. Sam knows in 30 minutes he’ll be hard and begging for more; his heats generally got more intense as they went on, and it’ll only get worse. Right now all he wanted to do is cuddle until it got that bad, so he nuzzles into Charles’ neck, content.

It’s ten minutes later, when he’s dozing lightly against him, that Charles shifts him to pull out, finally limp enough to do so. Sam whines at the feeling, and the rush of wet sticky mess now on his thighs and the sheets. He nudges Charles over so he's the one lying it in and he rolls his eyes, but goes along with it, settling down on his side to face him.

“I’ve never been with a guy while on his heat but shouldn’t you be all ready to go again? I figured you wouldn't be so cuddly, not that I'm complaining."

Sam shrugs, “Birth control affects everything, including blocking a lot of the primal need to be filled so I can get pregnant as soon as possible. My parents got me the strongest one they could, so it makes my heats start slower.”

“Aren’t most bible thumpers not down with their kids on it? Like they’re too stupid to think this is a biological thing, and you can land in a world of shit if you go into a heat and you don’t have it.” 

“My parents made me. They think it’s… unnatural.”

Charles frowns, confused, “What? That you have heats?”

“They're really conservative. They think it’s some holdover from Sodom and Gomorrah, some wicked response from God to punish gay guys and lesbians. Before that, no one is an Alpha, Beta, or Omega in the bible, but after there is. Betas are just what everyone was, which is why they're most common, and that's normal. We're the freaks, and evidence of God's punishment, and inherently wrong and shameful."

Lee makes a face. "Religious people are fucking weird."

"I mean, I'm not going to deny that," Sam shrugs, "Just saying that's what they believe, but not all religions think that. Muslims think it's a gift, because all children are a gift from Allah. Filipino Christians think it's a gift from God to third gendered people. It's just the views of the very conservative sects, but that doesn't fit the whole world's view on this. Most forms of faith have a positive take on it, or if they don't they still think the children of men who get pregnant shouldn't be shamed." 

"I'm sure they loved you dating George then. Probably gave your parents an aneurysm when he tried to claim you." 

"I really think they were sort of... pleased when it all happened, like they thought it was something I deserved for having sex on my heat." Sam pauses, unsure if he should tell him the whole story. No one knew, not really, but he feels like Charles is probably the one person that won't judge him. 

"When the whole thing with George happened, I almost thought about letting him. He wasn't a bad boyfriend, not really, just kind of possessive, and if I took his bite and let him be my mate I know he would've been a good one. If I... I mean, if he claimed me, I could move in with his family, I wouldn't have to play nice to get my college fund, I could have our kids in a safe, loving environment, with someone who could provide for us. But I didn't love him, not really, and I didn't want that. I grew up with parents that got married because they were supposed to, and even though we'd actually love them and not just have them out of duty like they did with me, our kids would be able to tell. I wanted to be with someone who loved me." 

Charles goes quiet, his hand gently rubbing up and down Sam's back as he thinks it all over. Then, he snorts, "This is like... the least sexy and most depressing conversation we could be having right now." 

"You asked!" Sam laughs, shoving him, "You wanted to know how I got put on birth control. It masks that christian shame. It was either that or they'd force me to get sterilized.”

Charles's face goes from amusement to horror in less that a second.

“What the fuck?” he hisses, wrapping himself around Sam tighter, as if he's trying to shield him from the world, "Why the hell would they do that?"

"A lot of people do it, Charles." He mumbles it into his armpit, unable to break Lee's fierce hold.

"And a lot of people are fucking stupid. What if you, or... or your mate wanted kids? Or like... you found some nice woman and she was barren? That's fucked that they wanted to take that all away from you." 

Sam sighed, already tired of this conversation.

“It doesn’t matter, Charles. In six months I’ll be done with school and then I can leave, and go on with my life, and have kids whenever I want and not have them around for it.”

Charles raises his eyebrows, “Kids?”

“I mean, not until after I finish school, but at least two. Maybe three.”

He feels like he should be embarrassed, thinking about babies as a concrete thing as a teenage boy, but Charles smiles, kissing his nose again and just looking so fond it makes Sam's cheeks red. “I can see it. You’d make such a good mommy.”

He preened at that. Being male and an omega was rare, and most people saw it as a curse, but ever since he was a kid he thought it was a good thing his body was the way it was, even after his parents tried to force their views into his head. He never had anyone agree, always either thinking he was a freak or acting like it was a shame he wasn't born normal.

“Charles-”

“You’re so patient and sweet. They’d love you more than me, that’s for sure.”

Sam whines, his face on fire even more, and Charles grins, a little feral.

“That’s what you want, hm? For me to fill your belly with our pups?”

His dick twitches in interest.

Charles’ fingers trail down his back to find his hole, gently touching him, trying to get him hard again.

“Charles I don’t know if I can so soon-”

“Want to bet?”

Turns out, Charles is right.


End file.
